


Give Me the Meltdown

by Dallas Genoard (Kankri)



Series: Remembered Well [2]
Category: Baccano!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 18:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kankri/pseuds/Dallas%20Genoard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[ Canon - verse, with a twist on canon events. Eventual Dallas / Luck. Various other hinted pairings. ]</p>
<p>It was cold, for September. Ridiculously so. But perhaps that had to do with the fact they were standing out over the water, with the salty breeze biting relentlessly into any bare flesh that dared present itself. Burrowing her face deeper behind the mink stole, she lowered stinging eyes to the pile of muck the workers were digging through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me the Meltdown

[ **September 1932** ]

_In the name of Jesus Christ, I pray, Dear Lord, see me through these hard times. In these troubling times, I am filled with unspeakable fears. I reach out my hand to you now, and ask you to walk beside me._

It was cold, for September. Ridiculously so. But perhaps that had to do with the fact they were standing out over the water, with the salty breeze biting relentlessly into any bare flesh that dared present itself. Burrowing her face deeper behind the mink stole, she lowered stinging eyes to the pile of muck the workers were digging through.

This pile would also be empty, she knew it to be so. There was no particular weight or solidity to it. It was just another lump of slimy rocks, mud, and various oddities that had sunk to the bottom of the river over the years of its formation. But there was no oil drum this time either, she wouldn't delude herself into thinking such.

Nonetheless, she knew that Mister Gandor wouldn't lie to her. He told them where to dig, and eventually they would find the barrel. After all, there was cement in there weighing it down. The currents only reached so deep before their power was effectively rendered useless. But once they unearthed the oil drum, and freed the prisoner inside, would be be alright? Would he be the same old Dallas?

And what would happen once she'd had her five minutes to see him again? Fumbling her fingers over each other in the fur of her scarf, while dangerous, she let her mind wander.

_I cannot carry all my burdens, but I know You can, and will. Please walk beside me. Please help me hold on strong, through the trials and storms. Help me hold on to my faith, in even the darkest hour._

" Miss Eve. "

The voice jarring her from her thoughts caused her to gasp, and she snapped her head up expectantly, all of the muscles in her body tensing as she prepared to sprint across the dock, even in heels, to engulf her brother in her arms, smooth his hair and assure him that everything was all right now –

" It's gettin' a mite late, and you look like you're near ready to fall down with that chill in your bones. Wouldn't want you gettin' sick, Miss. We should go. We can try again tomorrow. " Samantha's smile is ragged at the edges, and the exasperation that she had kept out of her voice showed in her eyes.

_Stay with me Lord, and show me Your way. In Your love and Holy Spirit, I abide._

There's a hesitation between the two, but Eve finally nods in response, and turns to Benjamin. " I'd like it if we could stop somewhere else, first, " she says softly as she steps toward the car. " It'll only be a moment. "

The man only nods, and pops the car door open for the young woman and Samantha, waiting until they were both safely inside before closing the door, moving to the driver's seat, and starting off at Eve's orders.

_Amen_.

* * *

 

It's been a long night. Three of their men dead, a deal that fell through, and a good chunk of money wasted. As he placed the whiskey bottle down on the edge of his desk, he caught the sound of heavy footfalls on the stairs. Despite himself, he felt a rush of adrenaline flow through his very core. He didn't really want to talk to Keith or Berga anymore. He'd excused himself from their table twenty minutes ago to avoid just that.

Nonetheless, he turned around, leaned his back against his desk, and anticipated one of the two to burst through the door and continue their tirade of verbal abuse. It hadn't been Luck's fault, nor anyone's really, but he was the one whom they yelled at.

But instead, a harsh knock resounded. Arching a thin brow, he stepped forward, then rounded the oak davenport, and eased himself into his chair. He didn't bother to clear away the bottle before calling, " Come in. " Narrowed, hazel eyes weighed on the door, his mind racing with a myriad of possibilities.

After a few brief moments with only a ghost of voices outside the barrier – one unrecognizable, and particularly feminine – it opened to reveal a small woman buried beneath a bundle of furs. It didn't take him long to distinguish the face and place a name to it. Just four days ago, he'd spoken with her in fact, and he was indubitably relieved to see it was her, rather than another demon he would have to face tonight.

" Thank you, Marcus, " he said dismissively to the man who had escorted the young woman to his office. The man said nothing, but tipped his head in a nod, and excused himself. " ... Miss Eve. What can I do for you?"

" They haven't found him, yet. " Her voice is quiet, timid as she closes the door behind herself. She could sense the way he seemed to tense up at her news, and she wasn't sure why. She hadn't meant it to sound accusatory if that had been the issue. " Oh, I—I'm certain they will, with a bit more time, " her tone was assuring, and Luck wondered briefly if it was for him or for her, or both, " as you've told them where to look. "

" Of course. " He lifted a hand, motioned to the chair sitting before his. She doesn't hesitate to sit. He smiled briefly, then settled his hands over the top of his desk. " So to what do I owe this little visit? Are there any complications?"

" Not at all, Mister Gandor. It's just ... " She trailed off. Small hands collapsed from the tangled fur, and knotted in her lap. " ... I've started to think that perhaps my choice wasn't the best. " The confusion on Luck's face urged her to continue before he spoke, " I want to see him. It would mean everything to me to see him smile again. " She paused there for a moment, trying to find a good way to word what she had rattling around in her mind. " I can't imagine that, however, he'd be very thrilled to know that I've sold him off for experimenting. "

" Ah. " He wasn't one to question the actions of others, nor their decisions when he was rarely happy with his own, so he said nothing else.

" I … Is there anything you can do, Mister Gandor?"

There was a short silence. Then Luck stood, and stepped from his chair, rounding to sit down on the edge of his desk. Picking up the bottle, he rested it against his knee, thumbing the cork. " What would you have me do? I'm certain something can be arranged. "

Eve fumbled absently in her lap, smoothing wrinkles from the skirt of her silver dress. " ... They say that … money talks, isn't that so?" She lifted her eyes, but kept her head down so that her bangs shadowed her delicate features. " Is there any way that I could convince you to, perhaps … make that so with the Runoratas? Enough that says it's much more interesting than Dallas … ?"

He pushed his thumb against the side of the side of the cork, loosening it. Rocked it back with his index finger. Pushed it out with his thumb again.

" Let's make a deal. " 

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't the best, but again, I hope this portrays another side of the situation. Namely, Eve's. Luck will get more focus later.


End file.
